


The Inquisitor's Intentions

by fiftyshadesofgreywarden



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:12:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4355672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiftyshadesofgreywarden/pseuds/fiftyshadesofgreywarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor really likes Cullen. But what's an elf to do when she's socially awkward and unable to convey her feelings? </p>
<p>Fulfil an ancient elven marriage tradition of course!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inquisitor's Intentions

Liriah Lavellan didn’t think it would be so hard to find a gold-smith in Val Royeaux that was willing to embark on her commission and accept her coin. But it was. She had decided to make an effort and convey to Cullen her attraction for him, since she had made herself a fool enough already after her terrible attempts at flirting (did you leave anyone important behind in Kirkwall Commander? I could keep you company if you wished, Commander). Now, she would present him with a dowry and hope that it made her intentions towards him more than clear, if he figured out her intentions of course.

Liriah’s mother had drilled into her daughter that when choosing a mate, showing them what skills she had was important. It wasn’t about looks (though they did help); it was what she could bring to a partnership. As a former hunter in her clan, Liriah would show any potential mate her talent for hunting. So she had sat down and after some serious thought, had compiled a list:

_A lion shaped belt buckle, a maw of a Gurgut, one Dragon’s skull and fifty bear pelts._

This list was why she had willingly returned to the Chantry-run city and had tried to barter with a number of gold-smiths for their business, but to no avail.  They had all shut her out and as a result, Liriah was itching for a fight. It was Sera who came to the rescue, showing her to a small and smoky forge that was occupied by a mute blacksmith and a goldsmith who uttered more curses than Liriah did. The gold-smith had accepted her commission and her coin without one snide remark other than his initial reaction of: “so the rumours are true, you’re a ruddy knife-ear.”  Liriah had laughed at the smith’s audacity before flipping him another piece of gold.

A month later, when she returned to pick up the buckle she was surprised to find a much finer item than she had initially expected. The lion was embossed in gold and silver, the finer details were filigreed silver which gave the buckle character and depth. Presented on a simple brown leather belt, it would be obvious to anyone who saw it that it was finely crafted.  Awed as she was with the belt, she found herself uncharacteristically stuttering her thanks before eagerly leaving Val Royeaux so she could gift the belt to the Commander.

Back at Skyhold, Liriah left the belt on his desk, the light catching on the delicate details of the lion’s mane. It was beautiful and fierce, tame but wild and Liriah was proud to gift such a beautiful piece to the man that she loved. Heart beating in her chest Liriah hurriedly left his quarters and barricaded herself in her own room, left to her doubtful thoughts and insecurities.

The next morning, those insecurities were abated when Liriah met with her advisors; she spotted her belt sitting snugly around Cullen’s waist. It sat nicely with the weight of his sword sheathed at his side, his left hand sitting in its customary position on its pommel. Unbeknownst to her, Cullen saw the brilliant smile that graced the elf’s features at the sight of him wearing her gift.

 

**_Maw Of A Gurgut_ **

 

Liriah couldn’t hear what exactly Varric was grumbling about as they trekked through the stinking marshlands in the Exalted Plains. Their boots filled with the fetid water and each step through the mud was a struggle. Liriah could sympathise the fact that Varric was knee deep in mud; she also had no sympathy because the dwarf had insisted on coming along to see just what exactly a gurgut was after he had overheard Liriah asking Scout Harding where a pack of the reptiles could be found. Bull had insisted on coming along because he had a hard on for fighting big things and Solas, well she couldn’t stand Vivienne and Dorian was trying on the best of days.

That would be a sight to see, Dorian trekking through mud. As if he would willingly dirty those sparkly robes of his. Scout Harding had looked at Liriah as if she had grown a second head before raising an eyebrow in question. Gurguts were violent, vicious reptiles and no smart person hunted them. Liriah had insisted though and Harding had showed the Inquisitor inside her tent and provided her with maps and detailed reports regarding the creatures that had been made by the other scouts.

“Why are you trying to find a Gurgut anyway, Inquisitor?” the dwarf asked and Liriah just shrugged as she rested a finger on the map which detailed their camp site. “It’s for a man,” she finally said and winked at the dwarf before leaving the tent.

The Gurgut had come crashing through the grasses with a harsh screech and Liriah hacked at the reptilian creature, she had to wonder if proving her worth and showing her affection was worth it. As Varric shot an arrow into the gurgut’s one uninjured eye, it let out an ear-drum piercing screech in pain and Liriah took her opportunity to swing at its throat in a vicious upper cut that resulted in her embedding her sword deep into its’ neck. The Gurgut fell, drenching the whole party with mud and more stinking water. Liriah stood back, chest heaving from the fight with the stubborn reptile before daring to trade glances with Bull. The Qunari stood a few feet across from her, clutching his axe a bright twinkle in his eye.

“That was invigorating!” Bull crowed in victory and Varric groaned. Liriah looked around her trying to find Solas and eventually found the other elf sitting in the water unimpressed. Liriah frowned as she wondered when exactly the Gurgut had knocked the mage off of his feet.

“Perhaps you could acquire what you came for Inquisitor, so we can leave?” He asks stiffly as he wiped at the mud that had been splattered onto his face. Hiding her amusement at the mud covered elf, Liriah rested a foot against the Gurgut carcass and yanked her sword out of its place in the creature’s jugular which sent its cool blood gushing out of the resulting laceration. Liriah jumped backwards, a scowl on her face and looked at Bull.

“Perhaps you could sever the head?” She asked him somewhat peevishly. Bull’s answering response was to close the distance between him and the dead Gurgut and with two heavy thuds, had separated its body from its head.  Bull then stuck his arm into its jaw and heaved it up on his shoulder, easily.

“Where too now, boss?” he asked cheerfully. Pointing back at direction they came, they began the long trek back to camp. As Liriah wrapped her arms around herself in an event to stave off the slight chill that had set in from the cold water trapped underneath her armour, she decided; yes – all of this was worth it for Cullen.

 

_**One Dragon’s Skull** _

__

On this particular night, Skyhold’s tavern was much quieter than usual. People were scattered about, conversation a soft and comforting drone underneath the dulcet tones of Marylyn. Cullen always preferred the tavern on its quieter nights; but that usually meant that forces had been deployed, or it simply meant that Liriah wasn’t around to drum up the mood.

On that night, it was the latter – Liriah had practically disappeared almost three weeks ago with a small unit that was more scouts than soldiers. When Cullen had asked Josephine where Liriah had gone, the Antivan had merely giggled before covering her mouth with her hand and burying herself inside her never ending mountain of papers. Slightly perturbed, he’d accepted her giggle with a courteous nod of his head and had been on his way, but Liriah’s sudden departure still concerned him.

He was distracted from his musings by Varric calling his name, beckoning to join the dwarf.  Mug of ale in hand, he picked his way amongst the wooden tables until he came to the table that was out of the way and was pleasantly surprised to find Hawke sitting with the dwarf. In his past dealings with the woman, she had been a steadfast presence, who was deadly with a knife and a persistent thorn in his side. When he had heard just who exactly Varric’s guest was – Cullen was interested in speaking to the Champion when they weren’t covered in blood fighting abominations.

“That is a fine belt, Commander Cullen. It serves you well,” she remarked as Cullen settled on the bench opposite her. “Liriah gifted it to me, she also gave me the maw of a Gurgut. I’m not quite sure why though,” he added as an afterthought.  Hawke laughed then and nudged Varric as they shared an unvoiced joke.

“Do you remember Guardsman Donnic?” Varric asked Cullen, his voice laced with humour. The name was familiar to Cullen but he couldn’t quite place the memory.

“He’s the Guard Captain’s husband now. You see Goldilocks had Hawke do all these things to find out if Donnic was interested in her. She gave him copper marigolds…she even wanted her to take sheafs of wheat to his mother!” Hawke’s eyes sparkled with mirth as she drank from her mug.

“Perhaps the Inquisitor wants to show you her inquisition” Hawke suggested easily, winking at Cullen as she spoke. Cullen opened his mouth to reply, but instead leant back in his seat suddenly embarrassed at Hawke’s words. Varric nudged his mug closer to him and Cullen took a deep gulp. Thankfully, Hawke and Varric said nothing more on the subject switching easily from that to Cassandra’s fascination with his romantic serial as Cullen pondered Guard-Captain Aveline.  

Two weeks later, Liriah returned from the Emerald Graves. Solas was taken straight to the infirmary to be treated proper for the burns and scratches he had sustained in the fight with a Greater Mistral. Bull’s horns were slightly chargrilled, but nonetheless intact and Liriah sported frizzy, dead hair that suggested flames had passed over her head more than once. Cullen had pulled her aside and asked her to never disappear like she had again and Liriah had nodded once before excusing herself.

When Cullen retired to his office after dinner, he was met with the skull of what had once been the Greater Mistral. He couldn’t help to smile as he looked at the massive skull. That night, Cullen went to the tavern and found the building bursting to its seams as people crowded around Iron Bull as he regaled them and his company with the story of how they felled a Greater Mistral. A smile poked at the corners of his mouth when he spotted Liriah sitting there, a slight blush to her cheeks as she nursed her mug of ale.

 

_**Fifty Bear Pelts** _

 

Liriah watched as the last of the bear skins was loaded onto the wagon for the return trip to Skyhold. The elf had always hated bears. Nearly always quick to attack and very temperamental, bears were just nuisances; especially when they wouldn’t die. Liriah and her little entourage had killed fifty of them and somehow, Solas had managed to come out of the hunt with only a mild concussion and a serious scratch down his side.

At least with all the meat, Skyhold’s cooks couldn’t complain.

Skinned and preserved, the pelts were the last item on her list. She had given Cullen her three other gifts and so far as she could tell, he had accepted them all. He wore the belt with the lion buckle every day and she had heard gossip about the origins of the dragon’s skull and the Gurgut maw that was now showcased in his office. It was satisfying to know that he hadn’t just merely discarded her carefully selected gifts.

The return trip from the Hinterlands passed quicker than Liriah could imagine and as she rode into Skyhold, she found herself a bundle of nerves as a flurry of doubts went through her head. Would Cullen recognize her gifts for what they were? Would he even accept her? Liriah muttered curses to the Dread Wolf for allowing herself to be attracted to Cullen in the first place, before dismounting and handing her horse over to the waiting stable-boy.

With Cassandra’s help, the two women hefted the heavy pelts into Cullen’s empty office san living quarters and together, they cleared a space on his cluttered desk and began piling the pelts onto the desk.  “Inquisitor…may I ask why we’re giving all of these to Cullen?” Cassandra asked as they hefted the last pelt onto the pile with a well-timed throw. Liriah shrugged as she wiped her hands on her pants and flashed Cassandra a quick smile and shrugged. “It’s an old dowry tradition, he might not even get it” she told the other woman before clapping her on the shoulder and heading to her quarters for a bath.

Later that evening, Liriah was sitting up on the battlements watching the sunset behind the mountains when she heard familiar footsteps approaching. She didn’t acknowledge Cullen coming up behind her, suddenly afraid that he was going to reject her, even after all of her efforts. He came to a stop beside her and leant against the stone.  She swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat when a small bunch of Andraste’s Grace appeared in front of her. Hesitantly she accepted the flowers and stared down at them, fingering the soft petals as Cullen turned her so Liriah was facing him.

“Where I come from, we give our loved ones a smaller token than fifty bear pelts” Cullen told her gently and against her will, her cheeks burned with embarrassment; so she hid her face in the sweet-smelling flowers. A finger pressing underneath her chin made Liriah look up. “I like you Liriah, much more than I should” his other hand came to wrap around the one in her lap. Liriah could hardly believe her ears. She hadn’t expected Cullen to deduce what she was doing; she had figured that he would just dismiss it as one more of those strange little quirks of hers.  He was tilting her chin higher and his face moving closer.

“Commander!” Liriah jerked out of Cullen’s grasp as he whirled around and began to give the poor soul who had interrupted them a royal dressing down. She listened, half in a daze before coming back to her, his face suddenly in hers again. “We also like to kiss and hold the ones we love,” he told her as his lips hers – soft, questing and probing. Still clutching her gift, Liriah wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking deeper into their kiss. When they finally separated for breath, Liriah rested her head on Cullen’s chest as they leaned against the stone for support.

“That dragon’s skull is very intimidating you know, was it really necessary?” He asked her, voice low and teasing. Liriah looked at him, brows furrowed before seeing the tug of mirth at the corner of his mouth.  “No, it means I like you” Liriah mumbled, embarrassed before settling right back where she ought to be.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Liriah Lavellan was lovingly lent to me so I could write this by one of my many role-play partners. What started off as a one paragraph head canon turned into this!


End file.
